


When Two Become Three

by OrangeChickenPillow



Series: The Witcher - Shorts [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Polyamory, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Singing, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, could be read as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeChickenPillow/pseuds/OrangeChickenPillow
Summary: Jaskier convinces Yennefer to sing with him, and the two bond over the experience.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: The Witcher - Shorts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064513
Kudos: 32





	When Two Become Three

**Author's Note:**

> Swearing, but other than that, nothing but fluff ;)
> 
> The lyrics used are taken from the song 'Fade' by Egyptian

Yennefer had always loved to sing. When she was a little girl, she used to sing to the pigs her family raised, as they were the only ones who would listen without judgement. Her disability, while not affecting her vocal chords, made her singing voice strange and slurred.

Young Yennefer didn’t mind this at all. She thought it made her voice unique, and as it was her own, she loved it. But over time, she was endlessly beaten down and shamed -- not only for her voice, but everything about her. Eventually, Yennefer simply stopped singing. 

The pigs didn’t seem to miss it. 

Despite trying to do everything right, the taunts still came, and Yennefer realized that nothing she could ever do would be good enough. 

It was a hard thing for a child to learn. 

She soon forgot that she had ever loved to sing, pushing it to the back of her mind, along with all of the other things that made up her personality. She realized that it was less painful to be a nobody than it was to be herself. 

But then, Yennefer grew up. She changed, mentally and physically, so much that she could hardly recognize the little girl she used to be when she looked into the eyes of the woman she now was. However, as Yennefer got used to her new body, and her new life, she began to find little parts of herself again. 

One of these parts happened to be her love of singing. 

She only ever did it alone. It had started off with humming -- she would hum a tune in the solitude of her chambers, gradually waking her musical voice from its long period of slumber. 

One day, with much self-consciousness, which was foolish given that she was alone, Yennefer began to sing. Her voice was out of tune and husky with lack of use, but she could hear a fragment of her old self within the sound. It wasn’t perfect, but it made her happy. 

Due to the harsh conditioning of her childhood, however, Yennefer vowed never to sing in front of anyone. She simply would not risk reliving the embarrassment and judgement she had once suffered. People could be too cruel, and she would never open herself up to them again. She would keep her voice hidden from them, holding it close to her heart like a priceless treasure. 

And she succeeded in doing this -- for a while. That is, until she met Jaskier. 

The troubadour was very good. She noticed it the first time she heard him sing. He had a voice like honey that was nothing short of beautiful. And when he sang, his eyes lit up as if his soul were shining through them, and Yennefer could tell that he felt the same way she did. Singing was a treasure to him, as it was to her. 

Jaskier was insanely passionate about his music, and loved it when anyone talked with him about it. His whole body glowed with an eagerness and joy that radiated from him.   
Jaskier lived and breathed music -- it was his whole life. 

So, when the bard heard Yennefer humming for the first time, he nearly jumped out of his pants with joy. 

They were sitting around a warm, dancing fire one fair night. The moon was full and hanging above their heads, casting a gentle light onto the earth. They were a few months into their travels together, and beginning to grow rather comfortable with each other. 

Geralt was lying stretched out on the ground, his back propped against his upturned saddle. Yennefer was sitting on a sizable rock, which served as a surprisingly comfortable seat, one leg crossed over the other, eyes gazing lazily into the flames. Jaskier was sitting cross legged on the ground, his lute resting in his lap. The bard strummed at the strings, giving them all of his focus. 

He was trying to work out a new song, plucking through the notes and attempting to decide which ones he preferred, testing words with sounds and the flow of the rhythm.   
After almost an hour of this, he decided to call it a night, and began playing an old, well known ballad.

He sang the first verse in a gentle, casual voice that rang out into the night, mingling nicely with the hum of crickets and the crackle of the fire. 

A few notes into the chorus, and the bard cocked his head, still strumming. His voice gradually began to soften until he stopped singing completely, his fingers growing still.

“Geralt, did you hear that?” He asked the dozing witcher. 

“Hmm?” Was Geralt’s reply, his eyes remaining closed as he raised an uninterested eyebrow. 

“No, I definitely heard it,” Jaskier said, straightening up. 

“Was that,” he feigned a gasp. “It couldn’t be…”

Yennefer rolled her eyes, but that didn’t stop the bard. 

“Was that Yennefer -- humming?” His voice was filled with shock, and for the life of her, Yennefer couldn’t tell if it was genuine or teasing. 

“Fuck off, bard,” she muttered, not unkindly. 

“By gods, it was,” Jaskier said, leaning forward, genuine interest written all over his features.

Yennefer shot him a look, blinking slowly. It was the only response Jaskier needed.

“Ohohoho, you are so singing with me,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.

Geralt had opened his eyes now, and was looking back and forth between the two with poorly hidden interest. 

Yennefer rolled her head to one side, looking pointedly at the bard. 

“Uhh, no,” she said, though she was struggling to hide a smirk. Jaskier’s excitement was, though she hated to admit it, rather adorable. 

“Uhh, yes,” he said, playfully teasing her. 

“Oh come on, please, please, pleaseeee,” he pleaded, giving her his most lethal puppy dog eyes. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes again, looking up at the sky. 

“No, Jaskier, I’m not singing,” she said, though she could feel her determination failing her. Jaskier, she had discovered, could be very persuasive if he needed to be. She guessed that was how he’d gotten Geralt wrapped around his finger.

“Oh, please, Yennefer,” he begged. 

She sighed, looking at his pleading expression. 

He really wanted this. 

“I… I can’t even… sing,” she said slowly, unsure. 

“Oh, bollocks,” Jaskier replied passionately. “Who gives a shit? It’s not about sounding good, it’s about… feeling it in your bones.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow. 

“Bullshit,” she called him out with a smirk. 

Jaskier’s head wobbled as he considered it.

“Alright, well it’s sort of about sounding good -- but mostly just feeling it. Oh come on Yen, pleaseeeee…”

There were those damn puppy eyes again. How could Jaskier, the foolish little bard she used to detest, be so irresistible. 

“Ugh,” she groaned, bringing a hand to her forehead. “Fine, I’ll bloody sing,” she gave in. 

“But I don’t want your opinion,” she added, and there was enough of an edge in her voice to sober up Jaskier, who nodded seriously at her. 

Geralt had closed his eyes again, Yennefer noticed, and she found herself feeling glad for it. 

Her heart began to race a little as Jaskier leaned forward, plucking a few strings before weaving a tune into the air. 

Yennefer recognized it instantly, and wondered how Jaskier had managed to pick such a perfect song, and one she knew well. She gave him a look of mild surprise, which he returned with a charming wink that said, ‘I’m just that good.’

In the silence of the night, interrupted only by the hollow ringing of the lute strings, Jaskier began to sing, his voice low and enchanting, drawing out the words with masterful care.

‘Rise in the morning sun   
We believe in the same ideals   
But it’s harder to leave  
When we’ve come this far   
And the end is near

Tell me what made you love  
Just the way you do   
It’s the purest time   
And I’ve wanted it too   
But it seems this world won’t let it be’

The bard raised his eyes to look at Yennefer, who was watching him with a sort of reverent silence. She’d heard him sing, but never like this before. There was something otherworldly about it, and she knew that this was his version of magic. 

He continued, his voice growing in volume and passion, his hand strumming out a heartfelt melody across the strings. 

‘And so will you write this down   
When the siren sounds  
You’ll remember me   
Cause this isn’t mean to be   
Turned into a memory   
That says until it fades   
Away’

There was a moment of time occupied only by the strumming of the lute as Jaskier strung out a stunningly complicated sound that Yennefer had never heard before. Yennefer drew in a steady, full breath, and then her voice entered the night, merging together with the sounds of the string instrument. Her voice, which was low and beautifully husky, started off quiet and unsure. 

She’d hardly gotten two words out when Jaskier’s head, which had been leaning over his instrument, snapped up, surprise written all over his face. But it was the admiration hidden behind this surprise that encouraged Yennefer’s confidence. She raised her voice, leaning into it more fully as all her hesitancy drifted out into the night. 

‘Three-hundred miles away  
A different night   
But the sky is the same   
Nobody else can heal this pain   
But you are a stranger  
Show me another road   
I can’t stand here on my own   
If I’m gonna live then I have to go   
I’m in danger’

As she finished the verse, Jaskier almost forgot to join in for the chorus. He was watching the mage with wide eyes. Even Geralt, who had been pretending to be asleep, had sat up and was watching the two of them with an indiscernible expression that was something like wonder and absolute bewitchment. 

Their voices joined with the hum of the lute, weaving together like they had always meant to find one another. In unison, Yennefer and Jaskier created an unearthly melody.

‘And so will you write this down   
When the siren sounds  
You’ll remember me   
Cause this isn’t meant to be   
Turned into a memory   
That stays until it fades  
Away’

Almost in a daze, they sang the remaining verses, their voices floating into the night sky and minging with the smoke from the fire. 

As Jaskier plucked the final notes, Yennefer leaned forward on her knees and sighed. It felt like some sort of tension she’d been holding onto her whole life had been relieved. She felt like she’d been submerged in something like water, and came out of it as something new and clean. 

She’d never known music could do that to a person. 

But then, she’d never sung with anyone, let alone someone like Jaskier. 

And speaking of Jaskier, the bard had propped his lute up next to him and was staring at Yennefer with a baffled look. She thought she could also sense an air of betrayal on his face. 

He gaped at her for a moment before he could produce any words. When he found them again, the words came out as a shout. 

“Dear gods, Yennefer! Why the hell have you been letting me sing all this time? You’re the one who should be entertaining us.”

Yennefer smirked, relief flooding her body. 

“Well, to be fair, we don’t necessarily let you sing, you just sort of do it.”

At the same time, Geralt mumbled, “Entertaining us? Who ever said you entertain us?” while shooting a mischievous glance in the bard’s direction. 

But Jaskier was too ecstatic to notice. 

“Oh -- oh ho ho, this is good. This is bloody brilliant,” Jaskier grinned, rocking forward in his excitement. 

“You have got to sing with me in a tavern sometime -- we’ll come out rich and more famous than we already are.”

Yennefer raised her eyebrows in amused disbelief. 

“There is no fucking way I’m ever doing that, bard, and you can bet your precious lute on it.”

But Jaskier wasn’t deterred. In fact, quite the opposite. He jumped forward even further. 

“Ooooh yes, you absolutely must learn to play. I can teach you--” he paused, his face screwing up as he reconsidered. 

“No wait, then you won’t need me and I’ll be out of a job,” he added hurriedly. 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t worry Jaskier, no one is coming for your job,” she drawled lazily, but she smiled fondly at the air directly next to the bard. 

“Well, perhaps that’s for the best,” Jaskier said, nodding. 

“But still,” he added, sounding genuine. “You’ve got a stellar voice, Yennefer. I mean, absolutely brilliant.”

Yennefer looked away.

“Thank you, Jaskier,” she said, careful not to sound too emotional.

The bard beamed at her. 

“But by the gods, I can’t believe I’ve known you all this time and had no idea,” he wondered aloud. 

“It’s like living above a cave full of riches and never knowing it,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “Unbelievable.”

Yennefer snorted, and Jaskier grinned at her, looking as pleased as she had ever seen him. 

The mage had a sneaking suspicion that, in Jaskier’s mind, they were bonded for life now, and would be best friends until the end of time. 

The thought made her laugh, and she found that she was no longer as surprised by the strange young man as she used to be. 

They sat in silence, and eventually Jaskier began to strum his lute again, playing an unfamiliar tune that fit the mood well. 

He was still sneaking glances at Yennefer, and it finally dawned on her, where she’d recognized that look; It was the one people often gave her when she performed a spell for them. One of awe and disbelief at what she was capable of. 

Yennefer usually scoffed at these reactions, knowing what she’d gone through at Aretuza to be able to control her powers. These same powers that people ogled over, Jaskier had never batted an eye. She conjured up a tent for him every night, and he could care less; He was more impressed by the beauty of the wildflowers they passed than he was by her magical abilities. 

But yet, her unpracticed, novice singing voice had made him so impressed that he couldn’t stop looking at her like she’d done something phenomenal. 

He was strange, that was for sure. But he was interesting -- not boring or fake, like so many of the people she’d met throughout her long life. He was genuine and always shamelessly himself, which was more than she could say about herself. She admired him, in a weird kind of way. 

With a grunt, Geralt rose from the ground, disrupting the still silence that had befallen them. 

Taking a flask and a few small, wooden cups from his saddlebag, Geralt poured out some ale for each of them. 

He nudged Jaskier, who had been too occupied with his instrument to notice that the witcher had gotten up, and handed the cup to the bard, who eagerly accepted it. 

Walking silently over to Yennefer, he handed her the drink, which she accepted with a thankful smile. His hands lingered on the cup, brushing her fingers softly and looking at her with intent. Yennefer glanced up at him and tried to read the expression on his face. 

She thought maybe he was trying to compliment her without actually saying anything, which she found just as endearing as it was amusing. 

She tilted her head and smirked at him. 

“Thanks,” she said, raising the cup when he finally released it from his grip. 

“Hmm,” he nodded, giving her a small, understanding smile. 

He returned to his position on the ground. The night air was growing chilly, and the fire was begging to die. None of them bothered to add more wood, but rather sat by and let it choke itself to embers. 

Yennefer had already prepared their tents for the night, so she sat back and relaxed, knowing she’d be able to drop into bed whenever she felt tired. 

And she was feeling tired. Singing, and the ordeal that it had been to convince herself to do so, had taken a lot of her energy, and it didn’t feel unlike when she had to perform a particularly difficult spell. 

Strange, she thought, how much she’d changed over the time she’d spent with Geralt and Jaskier. Well, maybe she hadn't changed, but only begun to relax a little. There were few people she felt truly comfortable around -- like she could actually be herself and it would be okay -- but it seemed that Geralt and Jaskier were two of those people.

The more she realized this, the more she was surprised by the fact that she didn’t want to fight it or stop it from happening. 

Why she liked a stoic, crotchety witcher and a bubbly, eccentric bard so much, she had no idea. Why, out of everyone in the Continent, they were one of the few she felt the most comfortable around, she could hardly begin to guess. 

But, as she realized, she didn’t really care why. It just felt nice to have a sense of belonging that wasn’t destroyed by her many emotional walls. 

As the night grew, Yennefer found that all this thinking was making her exhausted. It was already late, and she was tired of contemplating her emotions. She needed to do something to calm her mind. 

“Geralt,” she said into the night. 

She could just see him in the dim glow of the embers. He raised his head, finding her eyes. 

“Hm?”

“You want to head to bed?” She asked.

The witcher stood, which she took as his answer. 

There was a gentle twang as Jaskier flicked one of his strings, then the bard slipped the instrument back into its case and propped it up next to him. 

“Right, I think it’s about time for my beauty sleep as well,” he declared, peering into his cup and swirling the remainder of it’s contents around. 

Yennefer led Geralt to the entrance of their tent, which was not far from the fire. 

She lingered outside for a moment, thinking. 

Glancing over at the bard, she made her decision. 

In a dry, humorous voice, but one that was serious enough to be dangerous, she called to Jaskier, “You could join us, if you want.”

“Yen!” Geralt hissed, giving her a look of alarm that made her cackle. 

Over by the fire, Jaskier choked on the big swig of ale he had just taken. 

The bard sputtered, leaning forward to cough up the drink he’d inhaled. 

“Um, what,” Jaskier asked, his voice comically high and confused. 

“You heard me,” she said slyly, raising a slender eyebrow. 

Jaskier looked between her and Gralt, mouth agape like a drowning fish. 

Geralt looked at Yennefer, eyebrows drawn together and mouth set, before turning back to look at the bard. 

Geralt let out a sigh, shifted his weight from one leg to another, then tilted his head at Jaskier. 

The younger man’s eyes grew even wider, if that was possible. 

“Ahaha,” he laughed nervously. “Never in a million years would I have thought that I’d hear those words coming from you, Yennefer. And Geralt, good gods, I can’t believe you…” Jaskier trailed off. 

“Honestly, if someone would have told me ten years ago that Yennefer of Vengerberg and the White Wolf would be inviting me into their bedchambers I would have--”

“Jaskier,” Yennefer interrupted, a hand on her hip. “You’re stalling.”

With that, she spun on her heels and disappeared into the tent. 

With one last fleeting look at Jaskier, Geralt followed behind her. 

Jaskier stared after them for a few seconds. Then, as if something had registered in his mind, he scrambled up.

“Well shit,” he muttered to himself as he made for the tent, not sure exactly how he was feeling about where he headed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying they did anything besides go to sleep, but I'll leave that up to your interpretation ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
